


The Weather Channel

by kaulayau



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: !!, Alternate Universe - Beach, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Beach Episode, Dark Comedy, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I watched Godzilla also!, I wrote a series of haiku about hermit crabs in this I hope y’all like it!, Teen Angst, i love that this is a tag, it loosely implies that beaches do not exist in this world, my only input is thus: less humans. more monster fight, or at least they are otherwise unreachable by human hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:23:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaulayau/pseuds/kaulayau
Summary: Ben and his motley, fifteen-year-old crew of six complete their latest mission. It goes as well as they figured it would — a solid eighty percent of the gang members are decomposing, and all the hostages successfully escaped unscathed — so that’s a win. Three-point-five stars out of five.They plan to play hooky at the crux of midnight.border border borderThe Hargreeves kids go to the coast.





	The Weather Channel

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Summer of Seven! This fic follows prompt one — Banana Boat Sunscreen. 
> 
> [here are the SOS prompts](https://kaulayau.tumblr.com/post/185338464252/the-inktober-layout-thing-was-real-fun-and-i-liked)
> 
> [also I fulfilled my own prophecy yo](https://kaulayau.tumblr.com/post/185301847562/the-umbrella-academy-needs-a-beach-episode)

Ben and his motley, fifteen-year-old crew of six complete their latest mission. It goes as well as they figured it would — a solid eighty percent of the gang members are decomposing, and all the hostages successfully escaped unscathed — so that’s a win. Three-point-five stars out of five.

They plan to play hooky at the crux of midnight.

Ben pre-packed a selection of audiobooks. (Poetry. The Bard. Sci-fi. Sci-fi fantasy.)

But thinks he forgot to pack a toothbrush.

* * *

 Herein follows Benjamest, a beast of Great Water, blessed by the Gods of Olde and Gods of New, a fantastical fiend in a fantastical worlde of shuddering wonder. Like a kraken, he strikes. Though he had not been granted the kraken’s title. Such was for his kinsman (he fucking guesses.)

The Princess Elvish Queen, Vanya, approaches him with trailing midnight hair. “Hurry, you must. Time flows, and the River of Light is closing.” 

“But my belongings,” says Benjamest to the Princess. “I am stained. I cannot enter the Hargreeves Palace Manor to retrieve them.”

“I will fetch what you require in the Hargreeves Palace Manor, dear Benjamest.”

“Greatest praise, my Princess Elvish Queen.”

* * *

So Vanya gets his shit. He didn’t take a ton — two bags only.

At the moment, he still has brain-matter sticking on him, dripping red and black down his elbows. There’s a hollowed gorge where his small intestine should be. His body feels like a paper cut.

No one else is too fazed. He figured.

He just has to wait for the regeneration factor to kick in, but until then, he’ll make sure not to leave tracks in the car.

The road is empty. The car hums along it, and the radio plays Ben’s audiobook. (Ben appreciates the tangible-letter kind of thing as much as the next guy, but he’s more of a listener personally.) His siblings don’t understand the context, but they keep it on nonetheless.

“We’ll watch movies,” says Allison. “There’s going to be a swimming pool, too. And those shitty sort of gift shops.” Her seatbelt isn't on. “Oh, my God. The beach. There’s going to be a _beach_.” From shotgun, Luther drums his fingers on the dashboard. “What?”

“I’m just thinking about the mission,” says Luther. “What if another one pops up out of the blue? And training —”

“ _Fuck_ your training,” says Klaus. He isn’t wearing a seatbelt, either. “Hammer it hard, and fuck whatever else you need to fuck. This is shit we’ve never done before.”

Then the car swerves. Everyone shouts their alarm.

“See,” says Five, at the wheel. “I’m distracted. Look what happens when I get distracted.”

“You fuck-hole,” says Diego. “You did that on purpose. Don’t deny it — yes, you did. What’s your problem?”

God. Shit. Shit. Ben fucking dripped. There’s a gunk of body-mass beside him. He scrubs it away. Oh, fuck, that made it worse. It’s embedded in the leather now.

“But… yeah, we don’t have swimsuits,” says Vanya. “We don’t have those, like. The shovels you get for sandcastles. We barely have any sunscreen. We don’t even have _umbrellas_. Absolutely nothing.”

“We have most of what we need,” Diego reassures her. (Everything but Ben’s toothbrush.) “We double-checked. It’ll be fine.”

Klaus jostles him. It jostles everyone in the second row. “And remember, guys? We’re going to _buy_ shit. With _money._ Rumors, too.”

God, God. What’s Ben going to do? His siblings will fucking freak at him. His dad — well, his dad is a different story. But his siblings. Luther. Blood is uncleanable, and Ben’s hands are filthy.

“What else?” Diego asks. “You going to fucking — barter or something? What century do you think this is.”

“The best,” Klaus reasons. “They’re called sand dollars for a reason.”

“No, they’re not,” says Luther.

If Ben scratches with his fingernails, then some of the shit gets cleared away. But then it’s replaced with new shit as quickly as it leaves. God. This is no way to start his vacation.

“Hey,” says Five, adjusting the rear-view mirror. “Someone get Ben a towel.” He stops at the red light. “Dumbass. You can just —”

“I know,” Ben says. 

They send Vanya to dig through the trunk.

Ben gets his towel.

All right.

“Oh, shit,” Diego says. “I forgot something at home.”

They pick up Mom. She was charging. Ben still doesn’t have a fucking toothbrush, but at least he’s thinking about it.

* * *

The motel they’ve booked is rickety, decrepit, and small. It’s so much more than perfect.

They pile out of the car. One of those faux-golden hotel luggage-carrier things are available. They take it and enter the lobby in a stack.

Luther peels Ben’s domino mask off his face carefully. A hemoglobular sticker.

“What?” says Ben.

“Don’t be weird,” says Luther. He flicks off the crust of blood on his thumb. There’s blood on the shag carpeting, too. Blood everywhere. Like a dog that has shaken out its mane. “You looked uncomfortable.”

The porter eyes them with concern.

“I heard a rumor,” says Allison, “that our room was ready.”

The porter hands them the keys.

Okay. For two days, the world is (mostly) theirs.

* * *

Ben gets to take a shower first.

In the pseudo-kitchen, Five and Allison are ordering delivery breadsticks. Luther and Klaus are scouring the television menu. Vanya and Klaus are constructing a grand pillow fort.

And like a tally, Ben notices that his abdominal cavity has sufficiently recovered. With this comes a brand-new scar.

* * *

They all passed out on the floor, on pillows. On the remnants of Klaus and Vanya’s grand fort.

What time is it? Dear God, they’ve wasted half the day.

(Mom sits on the decorative sofa chair provided by the motel. She doesn’t need a bed.)

Ben left his CD on play through the night.

He’ll have to find out where he started.

* * *

The store is a bodega, and the windows are painted with summertime murals and forty-percent-off sale ads. Its stock includes trinkets, wakeboards, and pails of every shape and shade.

“Get the non-shitty sunscreen,” says Klaus, sifting through keychains like a beaver.

“Which one’s that?” asks Allison. She throws a pair of sunglasses and a visor into their shopping basket. (She’ll never wear either.)

“As long as it’s not that orange one,” Klaus tells them. “The orange one’s fucking disgusting. It’s chunky. Like that one time in Paris when Vanya went full beast-mode. It was great.”

“Oh, yeah,” says Diego. “All those fucking heads imploded. I saw someone’s arterial shaft or something.”

“And then... we made that game of counting skulls,” Vanya adds. “How many did I get? Sixteen.”

“That was fun,” says Klaus. “You know what? Get the shitty sunscreen.”

Ben takes six flasks of the orange-cased sunscreen. (He takes a purple one for Klaus.)

What else do they need? Vanya and Diego wrote a list. Oh, bathing suits. That’s right — bathing suits. Allison was talking all about it. Ben is definitely getting a rash guard. Where’s the rack? Here it is.

Then a plastic bin catches Ben’s eye like a coin.

This bodega sells fucking hermit-crabs.

* * *

Hermit crab haikus

Because they have arrived here

Before Ben today.

 

One has a red shell 

Klaus, enthralled, said to call it

Kidney Stone — legend.

 

One has a blue shell

Diego christened it then — 

Deathless Throwing Star.

 

One has a striped shell 

Thusly named by Allison

This: Marlon Brando.

 

Forsooth, comes hermit

Ben’s not sure of haiku form

He likes the crabs, though.

* * *

“Dad’s not going to let you keep those,” Five says. They trace the splintered docks. Ben purchased a chain-link hermit crab enclosure, a large vial of hermit crab food, and three consequent hermit crabs. “What makes you think this was a good idea? You’re going to get in trouble or something.”

“Since when did you care about getting in trouble?” says Ben. The crabs are crawling up their cage.

“But he’s right,” says Luther. “It may seem like a small thing to you right now, but we’re not exactly the ideal hermit-crab owners. We’ve broken too many things.”

“Bones,” says Five. “Necks. Extremities.” He knows. They should stop acting so old and dumb. “Imagine that on a crab.”

“Yeah. Who’s going to feed them?” Vanya says. “Are you just going to keep them in your room forever? They’re just trapped. They won’t be very happy. I can guarantee it.” Who’s she to say?

Allison almost makes twirls in her step. “Don’t let him buy things, then.” No one can give an adequate response. “Then _whoosh_. The problem disappears. We go on with our day. I don’t see any problems at all.”

“Are you hungry, kids?” Mom asks.

“It was in the moment,” says Five. “You can’t say no.”

“We should’ve,” Vanya says. “You’re just going to get your feelings hurt when Dad takes that away, Ben.”

Diego links his arm with Mom. “Forget about it,” he says. “Don’t be annoying. Let him keep his fucking Kidney Stone.”

* * *

They tour the vast expanse of hyper-space and bullshit. In their storage are the Planetary Crustaceans, kept for transport.

“Rearrange the thrusters on the micro-plath pseudo-plasmid engine,” orders Captain Luther. “Adjust the viewpoint on our plexiglass port. How’s the ship’s stabilization core?” 

“Stabilization core is stable,” says Lieutenant Allison. 

Commander Klaus swirls in his automated seat and gets up. “Fuck! I’m picking something up from the deep-out territorial asteroid lane!” 

Ensign Diego can’t seem to believe his ears. “Are you seeing this?”

Private Vanya pushes every optimal button. “Our sensors are going mad! We’re getting signals from the Outermost Ring-field!” 

“What is it?” shouts Lieutenant Ben. “The records say nothing of this firsthand!”

“It’s something you pass,” says Officer Five. “It’s something you never approach.”

“Because it has never been seen before,” says Captain Luther. “This... this is the _Actual_   _Ocean_.”

* * *

“Three,” says Klaus. He, Vanya, and Allison line the shore. “Three, two!” They're not in sync. “Goddammit, you’ve got to jump when the tide comes!”

Allison shoves him. “Try it again. Come on.”

“Get your toes in it,” Klaus says.

“I’m going to go over there with Mom,” Vanya says. “Or with the others.” Klaus and Allison whine with stomping feet and implore her to stay.

Ben has temporarily released his Three Musketeers. They shamble, like his siblings after liquor, through the sand. When he pushes them with the tip of his pinkie, they shrink away rather than snip.

Except for Marlon Brando. Marlon Brando snips, and Deathless Throwing Star gets defensive about it.

He puts his headphones on and listens to his audiobook. He didn’t quite regain his place, but he’s somewhere close around it.

The narrator’s voice is lilting.

A shadow encroaches him.

Ben looks up.

“Yeah, Five?”

Five crouches down beside him. “Is it good?” He restarts. “Whatever the fuck you’re listening to.

“It’s, uh,” Ben says. “The book I played in the car, right? Yeah. It’s about… sad people and murder, I guess.”

Here comes another shadow. Vanya. “What’s that?” she says.

“Sad people and murder,” Five says.

Vanya nods. “Ah.”

“It’s really good,” Ben lets the know.

Five sits. “I’d bet.”

And he nudges striped-shelled Marlon Brando with his knuckle. Marlon Brando flails.

“You know,” Vanya says, “I didn’t think the water would be so cold.” Neither did Ben. “The only time we travel is when we’re needed. We only saw blood once, and it wasn’t even from here. Can you believe it? It’s absolutely insane.”

She kicks around and decides to join them.

“I forgot my toothbrush,” Ben says.

“Ask the motel,” says Vanya.

Five snorts. “Motel’s shitty.”

Vanya brushes her bangs back. “Well, I think I might have packed a clean spare.”

That’s a solution.

“Why were you all mad about hermit crabs?” Ben asks.

The two of them just shrug.

“It’s stupid,” says Five. He sounds like he doesn’t want to address it any further. “Hey, why do you just listen to books?” Oh. Well, Ben doesn’t just listen to them. He just likes it. “You’re missing out on all the shit. Like the phrasing. The commas.”

“You don’t read a book just for the commas,” Vanya says.

Ben is inclined to agree.

“Here,” he says. He scoops up Marlon Brando, thinks better of it, and takes Deathless Throwing Star. “You want to hold it?”

“No,” says Five.

“But thank you,” Vanya adds.

Fair enough.

* * *

They seem un-bothered with petting stingrays, though. Ben isn’t sure where the trade-off is.

There is an aquarium on the boardwalk, open from ten in the morning to ten-thirty late-evening. It boasts axolotl, blue crayfish, big-mouth haps, angelfish, Atolla jellyfish, and Siamese fighting fish. Access to the petting tank costs eight dollars per person — and an extra four dollars for tuna to feed the stingray. Allison is the best currency.

“Our first mission,” Klaus says. “Vanya wasn’t with us, right? Our first mission — everyone went all _plop, plop, plop_. Splashing everywhere. All these fish, too —”

Luther sighs. “Listen to the worker,” he says. “Don’t pull the stingrays’ tails. And don’t try to — I don’t know. Don’t hurt them.”

“Hurt them?” says Klaus. “I’m a dumbass, not PETA. The only thing I pull is bullshit.” He and Luther pause, then elbow each other.

“You don’t want to touch the stingrays, Mom?” Ben says. She’s looking at the zebrafish.

She smiles. “I hope you have a lot of fun.”

* * *

 “Yeehaw!” hollered Waddie Klaus, grinnin’ like a first-place show-horse. “I reckon we’re lucky to be above snakes, you big caboose o’ assholes. We’re livin’ and breathin’ still.” 

“Shut your there pie-hole,” declares him there Five, the Buckaroo. “This here is a lick an’ a promise. This here, we’re fucked when we get back to the ranch. Back home. That’s above one’s bend. It’s for the calaboose for us folks.”

“Aw, shoot,” says Wrangler Diego. “You tryin’ to start somethin’ ‘bout deviltry? 

“He ain’t tryin’ to start somethin’ ‘bout deviltry,” says Cowgirl Howdy Vanya. 

Benjammin’ ain’t goin’ to do nothin’. “Y’all flummuxed.” 

“Stop frumpin’ around,” says Night Hawk Allison. “Is that there a goddammit fountain?”

Mighty so. “That there a goddammit fountain,” says Benjammin’. “One for jumpin’ around in, you reckon?”

“I reckon,” says Waddie Klaus.

Wrangler Diego nods himself up and down. “Let’s get jumpin’, then, you fucking idgits.”

* * *

The fountain is small. It’s probably a toddler thing. 

But they run around in it anyway. 

* * *

“By Jove!” exclaims the Countess Duchess Allison Hargreeves, high-collared, high-browed. The sweet shop is bright. “What wonderful candies! What sights to see! What carnal delights deluxe!”

A clerk gives part his frowning disposition. 

“Dear fair sister mine,” says the Duke Count Luther. “Without shoes, you are but a dandiprat on these premises. You will not be served. I ask that we avoid thy rumorance at this time.”

“Then where the fuck is our equipage?” asked the Honorable Lord Five.

“With our goodly mother,” says Great Viscount Diego. 

The Lady Marchioness Vanya Hargreeves speaks. “But they are sneakers, and our feet trail the sea!”

“Coxcomb,” says the Baron Holiest Klaus. “Crinkum-crankum. Crumpet. Egad! Gadzooks! Zounds! Motherfucker!”

“Otherwhere, however,” says Benjamethane. “Yonder, Your Grace. Beside this shop of sweets lies a gift shop of many things. Even equipage.”

“Yea!” says Countess Duchess Allison. “Dear clerk, I would like to put in purchase the shoes known as the flip of the flops. Then give us candy.”

* * *

They have sandals now, and gummy worms to spare.

Sold at this stand are novelty tee-shirts and wide-brim hats. Allison plops such a hat atop Ben’s head.

“You already bought a visor,” he says. She’s relentless. “This won’t fit me.”

“Bullshit.” Allison holds a novelty tee-shirt in front of him. The shirt has a picture of a tennis racket printed on it. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like to have all sorts of clothes? Like. Dresses and shit. Not just our uniforms.”

“I like the uniforms,” says Luther.

“They’re fine,” Allison concedes. “But it would be nice to have the choice.”

Vanya tries on a lanyard. “We’re not going to...” She doesn’t finish.

“Well,” says Allison. She looks at Diego. “Your turn.” They leave with more than a few plastic bags.

* * *

SCENE I. A merchant’s center.

_Enter, leftly, BENJAMIN-ETH-US and KLAUS-US; rightly, DIEGUS and VANY-ICE, with verses writ upon them.  _

 

BENJAMIN-ETH-US

Brother, what hast thou done?

 

KLAUS-US

That which thou canst not undo.

 

BENJAMIN-ETH-US

Thou hast undone our robot mother?

 

KLAUS-US

Villain, I have done thy robot mother.

DIEGUS

Get thee to a nunnery! Cleanse thy souls with suchly rotten things.

 

VANY-ICE

How strangely flies thy voices! 

 

KLAUS-US

Remember, thusly, how strangely flies thy fucking head.

* * *

Here’s the arcade. (Five said it wouldn’t be entertaining. Look at him now.) Machines can’t be rumored, but arcade employees can. They get enough tokens to last. Allison and Klaus give their try at Dance Dance Revolution, and Ben considers a try at the skee-ball machine. Five wins Vanya a bracelet at the claw machine.

Diego and Luther co-op some sort of shooting game.

“That’s not how it works,” Ben says. He holds his hermit-crab enclosure. “I mean, when you kill people, they don’t die right away.” They kind of gurgle and twitch for a while (until they can’t).

“I guess they didn’t want to research too much,” says Diego. He pins an on-screen zombie. “Just play the game.”

Luther reloads his digital weapon. “No one actually knows what it’s like.”

Diego kills an approaching monster. “Sure they do. Tons of people do. That’s why we get tossed all over the place.” 

There is a photo booth in one corner. They invade it immediately. Then they make their rounds.

* * *

Dinner is shaved ice. (They skipped lunch for more window shopping.) The sky is all pink and orange, and the clouds sieve past like a fever. They lean on an elevated table. Behind them is the traffic on the crossway.

Ben looks at his hermit crabs. One with a blue shell. One with a striped shell.

Shit, wait.

* * *

 Scientific Observations by Doctor Mysterious: 

An anatomical approximation of the deadly creature, known by masters of this craft as “The Horror,” is nearly impossible. For this terrible, shocking thing masks itself with the cloak of humanity. Indeed — it holds the epidermis of Homo sapiens. The knees. The palms. 

Though its mind, and all that lies betwixt, is like that of an unknown entity.

It exhibits a sense of overwhelming panic, having lost what it had recently found. It is frantic in its motions. The Horror makes sounds of Pterodactyl-like duress. It lays on the brink of breakdown. It very nearly collapses.

Discovered in tandem to The Horror were others just as frightening, attempting to pacify The Horror using a variety of means. They, too may never be understood.

This group is apart in their hostility — and united in their peculiar otherness. 

Further tests are required. 

* * *

“Kidney Stone,” says Ben. “He’s the one that’s gone. He can’t be at the aquariums right? None of the stores.” He can’t fucking believe this. He looks around — but where’s to look? This is the place on the beach that he and siblings were earlier. Right?

God. He killed a fucking hermit crab. Or — or it’s wandering around.

Kidney Stone.

He forgot to put him back where he belonged. Fucking.

Ben starts digging around.

Hold on.

Why does he feel so upset? It should be nothing. Now it’s —

He feels like an idiot. An idiot in a fucking dune.

Dad’s just going to take them away.

“Goddammit,” says Ben.

He hands off the hermit crab cage to Diego. Diego gives it to Mom.

The ocean recedes like a hairline.

“I mean,” he says, “if we keep looking.” But no one helps him.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” says Allison. “This sucks.” She kneels and sifts through the sand with him.

Klaus does the same. “Maybe he’s just hidden, yeah?”

“At least,” starts Vanya. She stops like she regretted it.

“At least what?” Diego says.

“Never mind,” she says. “Or like. At least it’s not that bad. But I don’t know. It’s okay, Ben.”

“We should get back to the motel, anyway,” Luther suggests.

“It’s all right,” Five says. “Childish shit brings childish outcomes.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” says Luther. “Still.”

“Thank you,” says Five.

Allison hesitates, then rises. “This — this is not childish.”

Five rubs his eyes. “This whole fucking thing is childish. You guys are all just almost —”

“Then you shouldn’t have tagged along, Debbie Downer,” goes Klaus. “Say nothing. Do nothing.”

“Where — where else could he go?” says Luther. “Next time, we’ll just make sure none of you do anything out-of-the-blue. We’re just getting out.”

“Stay at home next time,” says Allison, begrudging.

“We’re _kids,_ ” says Diego. “We’re just — trying to be kids, right? Doing _kid_ things. We’re trying to have some fun, with our fucking — with our mom.” And Mom doesn’t turn the slightest at the sound of her name.

Luther gestures towards her. “Mom isn’t —”

Diego cuts him off. “Don’t say anything about it.”

“If we’re trying so hard to be kids,” says Five, stomping his foot, “then we’ve probably grown up already.”

Diego makes a face. “You’re fucking _fifteen._ Don’t act all holier-than-thou. Full of shit.”

“Is everyone all right?” says Mom.

“So are we looking for fucking hermit crabs,” says Klaus, “or wasting an hour? Shut up. You’re all fucking gross.”

Luther frowns. “You’ve killed enough people for a war crime. We’ve all —”

“Who cares if we’ve killed people?” Allison interrupts. “If we steal? What difference does it make?”

Vanya crosses her arms. “ _None_. It doesn’t. They’re just trying to say that — we’re different.”

“Oh, my God,” mutters Klaus.

“Can’t _any_ of you get through your thick skulls,” says Five, “the consequences of coming here?”

“That’s why we fucking  _went_ ,” says Diego. “Don’t you see? We’ll always have to go back home again, anyway.”

“We’re just tired,” Allison says. 

Vanya folds her hands. “We’ll never get to rest.”

Luther sighs. “We might have lost our chance.”

Then it’s just the wind.

It carries a scent, somewhat, like saltwater. Like nothing.

“Not with that attitude,” says Klaus.

Ben will not find a hermit crab here, or anywhere else. 

He won’t find anything. 

But everything’s already here.

“Let’s order another pizza,” Ben says. 

* * *

They keep the night quiet. 

Their pizza has toppings on it.

(Vanya gave him her spare toothbrush. It’s still in its box.)

“There’s porn on at three A-M,” Klaus says. The cartoon blares its theme. They’ve never watched this show before. Or any show.

“That’s,” says Vanya, “no.” She makes an _X_ with her arms. “There isn’t. Stop yourself.”

“You just got to know where to look,” Klaus says. Vanya throws the blankets over them all.

“Now, children,” says Mom, “it’s past your bedtime.” But they don’t fall asleep until the sun rises.

**Author's Note:**

> [say hi on tumblr and we can chat about our favorite cephalopods as well as the posters on the wall of the Commission HQ](https://kaulayau.tumblr.com)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [and join our TUA Discord Server!! we have watch parties and caviar](https://discord.gg/muPgAGv)
> 
> thank you! <3


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